


We've Won, Now What?

by Cruisingforabruising



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: 5.3 spoilers, Anal Sex, Casual-ish Sex, Developing Relationship, Edensverse Spoilers, Elezen Warrior of Light - Freeform, M/M, Male WoL, Named Warrior of light, Porn with Feelings, Thancred Gets Railed: The Fic, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27268387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cruisingforabruising/pseuds/Cruisingforabruising
Summary: [5.3 Spoilers] They're back, they're finally back, and the people doth rejoice. They're back, and a party is swiftly thrown to commemorate the aversion of a Calamity they never even knew was coming. Still, some people are happier about being back than others, and some..? Some were left wanting and loose-lipped.The Warrior of Darkness didn't mean to pull the pin on that metaphorical grenade.
Relationships: Urianger Augurelt/Warrior of Light/Thancred Waters
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	1. Three men go to therapy.

**Author's Note:**

> CW for some slight veering into these broken men's feelings, alcohol, and shitty innuendo.
> 
> Also hi! I've not published fic in over 3 years! Oh, god, I'm out of practice sorry ORZ
> 
> If there's an appetite for it (as well as me having time, etc, I may write a second chapter, and it will almost definitely be porn.)
> 
> Pic of my WoL is here, look and gaze upon his person:
> 
> https://twitter.com/VeneficusFFXIV/status/1310649135792640000/photo/1

There was something to be noted about the celebrations the Scions held at the Rising Stones, jubilant and enthused as most of them were often wont to be, following a battle, a subsequent win, and their triumphant return to the Source. Triumphant in more ways than one, for the unsundered threat was purged, and they’d garnered a new member within their midst.

Still, Veneficus mused, as he pondered on his lonesome over a glass of red, poured far too high (though who was he to allow wine to go to waste), not everybody seemed quite so pleased as the Leveilleur twins, or Y’shtola, who although seldom allowed her guard to slip, was sipping merrily on a mug of steaming black tea, observing the siblings taking verbal jabs at each other. Doubtless she was awaiting some form of blackmail material--her mischievous streak knew no bounds. Tataru, as one would anticipate, was thrilled to be back in the company of her vaunted adventurer (and co), insofar that she’d crafted outfits in the wake of their return. Yet, on his own Ven sat, more accustomed to listening than partaking of conversation, and people wisely kept their distance. 

It’d been no secret that the man’s time in the First had led his skin to take on what could almost be considered a deathlike pallor, despite the darkened bronze tones. People wondered what’d happened there, he knew this, yet answered in solely uncertain terms, leading to inquiries as to why his eyes appeared so… dead. He’d respond summarily with ‘I’m just tired’, knowing full well that he’d be sent into his next war ere long, prior light corruption be damned. Nobody else needed to know the terror light wrought.

Sapphire eyes scanned the room (albeit one fairly uselessly), and with their talks of merriment, of grand political leaders welcoming the bunch back, there were two Scions who seemed particularly displeased with the arrangement–Perhaps there were loose ends, the Elezen speculated, as his gaze reached a darkened corner of the bustling room, wherein there sat Urianger, and Thancred. Thancred was hopelessly watching the ice float about in his drink, whilst the Astrologian spoke–at length, probably–about their time in the First.

It was at that moment that Ven opted to lean just a tad closer, to listen in to whatever it was they chatted of.

Thancred's words were the first he caught.

“I just–I hope Ryne’s going to be alright. I know she’s got Gaia, but that doesn’t entirely fill me with confidence.”

“Thou speakest of thine own confidence, yet ought you pay more credence to Ryne’s? Thy knowest she is full capable of great things.” At Urianger’s response, the Gunbreaker let a drawn-out sigh fall from his lips.

“I mean. I suppose you’re right, but… I just don’t think we should’ve left the Empty unfinished like we did.” Thancred punctuated this with another frankly pathetic sigh, allowing his head to fall with the dullest thud against the wooden table, which in turn caused the man’s glass to jolt. Ven sent a sympathetic but ultimately unseen smile his way, recalling how one's lack of control over the light near-led to another Flood.

“Thou hast forgotten, the Warrior of Darkness doth travel freely betwixt First and Source both. Remember that they may finish the trial for us, and that they may apprise us on Gaia’s and Ryne’s wellbeing.” 

Ven’s brow twitched into a furrow. He wasn’t about to babysit, if that’s what the two of them were implying–they were more than capable of taking care of themselves, though the slaying of beasts terrifying and wonderful assuredly fit the job description. Still, Ven reckoned, it was time for their wistful and fucking drab conversation to get an injection of fun. Or confusion. Whichever fitted the bill, he supposed, having drained his wine whilst listening to their unending drudgery. So he stood, stumbled as leatherclad thighs graced the edge of the table, height be damned, stole one more glance at Urianger and Thancred, then… ah. 

Found himself arriving at the bar once more. He couldn’t very well join the two of them without some form of offering, thus he put on a winning smile, straightened his back, and began conversing with the barmaid, a pretty little thing in her own right, fairly stocky with soft features and red plaited hair–but ultimately, the wiles of a maiden were lost on the mage. Luckily, she wasn’t attempting to cast any such wiles over him, she merely took drink orders, widened her eyes when Ven asked for a whole bottle of Wineport Red, and widened them even further when he placed down a hefty tip. So, with three glasses betwixt elegant fingers, and a bottle clasped in his free hand, he wandered, almost swaggered over to the sullen-looking couple in the corner.

“Oi. You got room for one more?” Ven asked, having not even dared to take ‘no’ for an answer, as he placed the bottle (and three glasses) carefully about. 

Now, Veneficus Puritas was not a smooth man, however, this could be forgiven, and almost forgotten with his offering of wine, and Urianger’s own sigh which sounded an awful lot like ‘just the one glass’ spurred Thancred on to accept without trepidation.

“So. It seems like you two aren’t thrilled about being back here.”

“And how do you know that?” Thancred raised his brow, questioning, inquisitive, and a little tense.

“You weren’t subtle. Neither of you were, particularly, ‘sides. I wished to check on you both after what happened with Eden. For once in my life, I’m not here to make fun of either of you–nor am I here to best either of you in single combat. Maybe. Perhaps.”

The errant brow came back down, shoulders eased, and Thancred’s handsome features lit up once he realised just how flavourful the wine was, the taste of Bacchus and the tides of Costa Del Sol dancing upon his tastebuds; it was near-enough to bring him back to his senses. It was Urianger who piped up next.

“And thus did you deign to accompany us. T’is much appreciated, Veneficus.”

Now, Urianger Augerelt was unmistakably an incomprehensible mess of a man, much like Thancred, and much like Thancred, he absolutely held Veneficus’ attention by virtue of being drop-dead gorgeous, extremely strong, and stunningly broken. The triad surely had something going for them; when they filled in those cracks within their fractured and tired souls, it was with molten gold.

“Aye, something akin to that. I think,” Ven responded, as he opted to stall, to think on his next words for the first instance in quite some time, the humdrum within the building washing over them for the brief period, and absolutely nothing could possibly go wrong with this. 

“I just wanted to make sure you guys were alright. Could offer a distraction, I suppose.”

Thancred’s hazel eyes cast upwards, stared at Ven, then at Urianger, then at Ven again, features wound up in what could almost be considered a smirk.

“Well, that’s one hell of a way to cut to the chase.”

With that, the subsequent realisation of what he’d just implied, and the alcohol heating him up, his ears tinted red, he brought about the selfsame deer in the headlights look he’d donned whenever he’d first been propositioned.

“Thal’s balls, that isn’t quite what I meant. I mean–it could be–if you were both–”

“–Ahem.”

Ven, in his flustered state, peered over at Urianger, who was sat cross-legged, red-faced in a manner that couldn’t possibly be attributed to the wine for he’d hardly touched his. There was only one way to truly describe the other Elezen’s state, and that was ‘stupefied’. 

“I-I must confess,” Urianger said with a start, voice damn-near cracked as he made an all-too-vain attempt to keep his voice down and his tone steady among the hustle and bustle of the party.

“I fare poorly in rooms so crowded, thus, were we to vacate the premises, I would surely be unopposed.”

Of course the introvert of the two would be the first to respond, Ven thought, though the thought was interrupted by Thancred.

“I’ll say, a bit of peace and quiet’ll do us good. I’m not really one for big celebrations.”

“Truly? Thou hast changed thy ways. Why, I recall thy Thancred of eld would’ve waltzed off with woman in hand ere long.”

“Well, you know. I’m in better company now, I think.”

Another gravelly ‘ahem’, this time from Ven, who’d gone from being flustered to tapping his fingers restlessly on his arm as he rose to his full height, swayed a tad in his place (something Thancred liked to refer to as ‘altitude sickness’), and proceeded to sip at this finest of vintages. 

“We can have this heart-to-heart away from prying eyes, wouldn’t you think? They won’t be that pissed if we steal away three of their glasses.”

“We’ll give them back, won’t we, Urianger–”

_“–Mayhaps.”_

Thus, the trio exited the room, distance maintained ‘til the room was left far behind them.

Just a heart-to-heart over a bottle of wine. Definitely a plan paved with solely pure intentions. Especially pure when Ven found himself honing in on just how close the other two stepped to him the moment they were out of sight, how these two gorgeous men lingered closely enough that the slightest move should cause them to brush arms.

His heart was assuredly not somewhere up in his throat.

 _'C'mon, Ven.'_ Forever had he considered himself the composed one--he was beginning to suspect this to be situational at best.


	2. Hang on, this isn't therapy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains porn, it contains feelings, I've not written smut in over 3 years and it's currently midnight, woohoo! Can somebody please get these men some therapy! 
> 
> Enjoy, this was the product of a fever dream and I did not have this thing beta-read, but it's the longest chapter I've ever written.

It took little reasoning for Ven to conclude why they’d opted to head to his room, the myriad other hints aside, such as the manner he’d found Thancred staring–albeit, mostly right through him. It seemed his sights were set on Urianger, and, stealing a glance, the other Elezen could scarce blame him. Where robes deigned to perpetually cover in past times, he was now freed, and heavens what a sight it was. All lean muscle, he’d put more on than Ven had ever managed. Ah, to feel slightly inadequate as the vaunted Warrior of Darkness. Or Light. Whichever suited the occasion, if he was totally honest, though he suspected the former would better suit his dress.

It was then that Ven realised that he’d been staring at the little sliver of his pectorals, exposed by a loose robe, and in turn, he averted that gaze–back to Thancred, who for all intents and purposes did the exact same thing. Urianger, on the other hand, was utterly oblivious to the two men staring slack-jawed at him.

It was then that Ven took this valuable opportunity to ruminate on Thancred. He’d certainly changed over the time he’d known him, from a serial philanderer, to a man so frayed, so traumatised that it seemed unlikely that he’d recover–to a man resigned to his life. But he mustn’t worry, Ven surmised; he could help him. Probably. Or perhaps they could help each-other, having both lost those so dear to them. No longer was he the Bard he’d first run into at Camp Drybone–he’d grown, steely determination upon lightly aged features. He’d never lost that spark.

Ah, he was staring again, and the gazes exchanged betwixt the three of them continued as the door to Ven’s room was opened; the room furthest from the festivities.

“So. Take a seat–uh. On the bed, I guess? I never thought to buy any chairs for this room. At least we’ve still got wine, eh?”

Thancred blinked, nodded, “At least we’ve still got wine”, he agreed. 

Thus the three sat, they chatted, they spoke of the First, much like they’d done mere moments prior, though their tones were more sure, they’d been awarded the space to speak freely, and among the topics were things they’d miss–people they’d miss, though none of them were like to miss the oppressive aether cast across the land, the people were good, hale, and whole. It was refreshing, they concurred, to have been within a land so bound by a universal cause, that it was almost jarring to arrive back in one so war-ravaged.

“Would that we could stay, or transport ‘twixt realms as freely as thou,” Urianger proclaimed, “I should prefer to stay within Il Mheg.”

“In amongst all those pixies? I think not. Though, Ryne did like the place.”

Thancred missed his charge dearly, so much so that it was written plainly across his features. Out came another wistful sigh, as he seemed to deflate, lips lingering on the glass. They’d since finished their bottle, and though any buzz had since worn off, there was a pleasant warmth which permeated to Ven’s core. An idea formed, as he turned himself upon the bed, faced Urianger whilst he scooted ever-so-slightly closer to Thancred, and almost seemed… enthusiastic? A rarity indeed for him. A counterpoint, the other two also appeared to be mulling something over intently, Thancred chewed on his lower lip, whilst Urianger pensively peered over to him, clearly waiting for some form of verbal indication.

“If that idea’s still on the table, Veneficus.”

Ven nodded slowly.

“What I mean is–Urianger and I should very much like to thank you. You’ve been a pillar, even whilst–even whilst you were dying, you put your life on the line over and over, and you saved us.”

_“And sex is traditionally how you two thank people, got it.”_

Thancred spluttered, the tips of his ears turned beet-red at the Mage’s observation. Not a particularly astute one, more a playful jab than anything else, though he was scarce known for his finesse in spoken word. 

“N-no! It’s not! But you’re unfairly bloody attractive, and we need to let off some steam, and have you even seen yourself in battle?!”

Ven, assuredly, had not. He wasn’t sure the fight against Shiva in the First quite counted. He shuddered; never did he wish to be within that hall of mirrors again.

“I do believe that what our Thancred doth meanest to say is this.” Oh, boy. When did Urianger get so close? What was that glint in his eyes? What had those pixies even taught him?! Ven had never felt quite so small, despite his status as the tallest man in the room; this was no time for fight-or-flight instincts though, for as Urianger damned near drifted down next to him, he felt a compulsion. A need, an urge that clawed at his heart and surged through his mind but before he’d the chance to ruminate on it too much, Urianger’s lips were upon his.

And by the Twelve, they were soft.

Ven melted into the kiss, whatever little inhibitions he had were out the window, one hand rested on the Astrologian’s taut waist, whereas the other brushed through silken strands woven of silver, meanwhile a strong pair of arms wound around his own waist, another pair of lips upon him, roaming, pressed chaste kisses to his neck, his collar.

For all the blissful unison that he and Urianger moved with, Ven pulled himself away, a few inches of distance between them that the other Elezen chased, ‘til Ven placed an index finger against his lips with nary a pout. 

“Thancred,” Ven huffed, head tipping backwards to allow the Hyur the access he craved-a fitting reward for such lavish treatment, “Be a dear and take my necklace off, won’t you?” Unspoken were the words ‘I trust you’ll cause it no damage’. In an instant, those deft hands were off his waist, where they hovered at his neck. Adornment swiftly unclasped, Thancred placed it carefully down onto the bedside table; the gear he’d acquired from Eulmore was likely more expensive than anything most adventurers had ever seen. At this one delicate action, Ven felt the room heat exponentially, aether crackled at his fingertips, and it was then that he leaned forwards.

“Urianger, your robe-if you’d please.”

The other man’s breath hitched, face flushed. Perhaps it was a tad inequitable to request that he lay himself bare first, although to observe Thancred so enraptured with Urianger’s display, robe shed with all the elegance expected of him, with that same shyness from their reunion in Il Mheg… why, if Ven weren’t in the selfsame position as Thancred, he’d probably laugh. Man’s got it real bad. 

It took a couple of minutes of staring for the two others to begin shedding layers, or, in the case of Ven, a chestwrap and some leather pants. Never again with the pants, he thought, as it was utterly impossible to be sexy whilst taking leather pants off. That said, once all obstructive garments were done and over with, the triad took a solid moment to simply… admire. Different features of different men, from the golden tones running through Ven’s everything, to the raw story Thancred’s figure told; it depicted his struggles, his scars did, and Ven couldn’t help but gravitate towards him. The scars, Ven reckoned, were a testimony to his countless trials, and he kissed each one that he could find. His chest, his torso, his arms, and even his hands–the Elezen opted for the lot, whereas Urianger deigned to cradle the Hyur in his arms, pressing soft kisses to even softer white hair, and Thancred looked on with half-lidded hazel eyes, breath hitching, lilting lightly.

T’was plain that he was unused to his scars garnering positive attention.

“Thou art… most enrapturing, Thancred.”

“Gods, yes. You are. I’m sure you’re used to hearing that, but…”

The unspoken meaning remained, the two Elezen continued to lavish Thancred with the attention he was due, speaking the sweetest of nothings, honeyed words, his cock twitched eagerly with their encouragements. He peered down at the man betwixt his legs, at the sapphire eyes that looked up at him with such feverish heat, and those soft lips which delivered the selfsame fervour his gaze promised. They twitched up into a mischievous half-smile as Thancred felt fingers curl around his smallclothes, and, with a nod, outstretched his legs to allow Ven to slide them off. This did unfortunately mean that the other man needed to move away for a split second, and he would’ve chased that heat, were it not for Urianger’s arms, reassuring and strong, a grounding force and the most delightful anchor, wrapped around him. 

“Thouest need not move, Thancred… we’ve got you. Anything thy heart doth desire, we shalt endeavour to make our own. Thou art the Lunar, to our Sun and our Stars.”

“Shite, Urianger…”

This could’ve been the part where Ven did interject with the hottest fact that the Sun was very much, a star. Luckily, Eorzeans mostly hadn’t quite grasped that facet of the void surrounding their world, and even more luckily, he was a little too busy to consider pedantry. Still, he thought the gesture highly sweet, if a little too saccharine, though the flush high upon Thancred’s usually-composed features left certain factual inaccuracies better left unsaid. Wasn’t it enough to simply bask in his wonderment? 

It transpired not, as Ven became distracted by lightly-tanned skin on display, on Thancred’s cock betwixt his legs, thus his chaste pecks across exposed skin became littered with the occasional little nip of teeth–nothing too harsh, as it elicited the tiniest gasp, and, as Ven positioned himself at the other man’s thighs, pressing kisses and bites to them, came a quiet moan. His breath hot against Thancred’s leg, he looked to Urianger, and at some point the three of them had all ended up on the bed in their entirety; caught up in passion, he supposed none of them noticed.

“Urianger. In the drawer on the bedside table–would you mind terribly fetching the small vial from in there?” Once again, he regarded Thancred.

“And Thancred, please could you kneel?”

“Aha. So this is how you’d have me. I’ve no objections, if you’re wonder–oh, Gods.”

“Rhalgr can’t help you now, I’m afraid.”

_“Were he my deity he would’ve–he would’ve smote you for that, I’m sure of it.”_

With his co-operation, Urianger returned as silently as he’d departed, the only indicator being the slightest dip in the bed as an arm encircled Thancred once again, lips pressed to his temple, his cheek, and with a turn, finally, a heated kiss; eyes fluttered shut, and he groaned unceremoniously into Urianger’s mouth as he rolled a nipple between two fingers, the rest of his hand splayed out on his chest, grounding him. Thancred’s pleased sigh was nigh-enough to conceal the uncorking of the vial, and while Ven continued his ministrations on his thighs (just enough to tease, to frustrate), Urianger dipped deft fingers into the vial, coating them.

Now, Ven, being the awfully industrious man that he was, spied this for the opportunity that it was, for as Urianger’s index finger circled Thancred’s entrance, bringing him to stare back at the other Elezen, Ven pressed a kiss just shy of the tip of his cock. The resultant quiver of Thancred’s thighs, the whimper that fell from his lips as Urianger’s finger breached him to the knuckle, and curled (with notably little resistance), and the manner in which that prior whimper became a drawn-out groan when Ven’s learned mouth took him in, lavishing him with attention; Ven was certainly about to note this as one of the most gorgeous sights he’d ever laid eyes on, Thancred’s head thrown back onto Urianger’s shoulder, chest heaving as he struggled to gain his bearings.

He wished to hear those pretty sounds spill ever-more from the Gunbreaker’s kiss-reddened lips, tongue laved along the length, lips reached his base, and Ven groaned a pleased noise; Urianger added another finger, and although one of Ven’s hands was splayed on Thancred’s thigh, the other happened upon the vial, precariously teetering on the edge of spilling oil onto the bed, and heavens forfend he’d have to change the bedding after this. That was a tomorrow problem, whereas his present quandary was coating his hand with a small amount of it, and guiding that hand down to his own waiting cock, keening as he cupped his fingers around himself; heat rose as he continued to take Thancred.

His languid strokes, Thancred’s face contorted in ecstasy, and Urianger’s (now three) fingers inside of the other man left him addled, wanton, and ultimately like he might’ve been missing out on something great.

Ah, but Thancred deserved this.

Speaking of which, his hands were tangled up in Ven’s unruly hair as he unrelentingly fucked into Ven’s mouth; he was close, Ven could feel it, and as much as he desired the idea of making the Gunbreaker’s resolve absolutely crumble with his mouth alone, he slowly began to push himself off. Thancred whined in protest, and what a delightful protestation it was, cheeks reddened, eyes half-lidded, his mouth fell open as he panted, arms dropping to his sides.

“Why–why would you–”

“Not just yet. I couldn’t possibly deprive Urianger. You… you’ll get your chance, though. Soon enough.” 

Ven’s voice came hoarse, breathy from prior exertion, Urianger’s hand slid from Thancred’s chest to the small of his back, gave a gentle push, and with all of the grace of a man who most assuredly wanted to be fucked, Thancred keened as he went down, arms braced on bedding; Ven also took it upon himself to shift, head cocking to regard the Hyur.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want t–oooohhh.”

Immediately, Thancred’s mouth was on him, pressing those selfsame hot kisses on Ven’s thighs, reciprocating what he’d been given; an absolute dream, his heart hammered against his chest, he’d not even asked, though the apparent loss of Urianger’s fingers inside of him brought him back to some form of ‘senses’. Simple sentences, thoughts, were no longer out of bounds, though his voice faltered, not with uncertainty, but with thinly-veiled lust.

“Urianger–ah–what’re you waiting for? Fuck me already.”

“O-oh. As thou desires.”

Urianger was a support in both love and war, as Ven found, the hand on Thancred’s back instead sloped around to chiselled abs, and though Ven initially suspected it a justified attempt at feeling the Hyur up (and who wouldn’t? He was a spectacle to behold), a swift glance at Urianger’s face saw no intent, just… a smile. Contentment graced those features, he was ethereal, gorgeous, and if Ven wasn’t already stroking at Thancred’s hair, he’d be cradling the other Elezen’s face.

As it were, Urianger thrust a slow, practiced thrust, Thancred keening ‘til the other bottomed out inside him, and Urianger leaned forward, craning over his back.

“Art thou settled?”

Thancred huffed, turned gingerly back to Urianger.

“Aye, now– _please._ ”

More of those unspoken words, though his subdued tone implied all there was to imply; he wished to forget, he wished for mindlessness, and thus Urianger caught on, beginning with what was at first a slow, considerate pace, and Thancred went from nuzzling Ven’s leg to licking a vast stripe up his cock, lips rested upon the head before he took him in; Urianger began to thrust in earnest, a cacophony of gasps falling from that pretty mouth of his.

Thancred’s eyes lolled back, taken from front and behind as he was, Urianger’s pace was unrelenting; he’d wished for this for an age, something the precarious nature of their prior mission would scarce allow, skin slapped against skin as he was fucked into, years of pent-up everything bubbling to the surface. A sheen of sweat covered their bodies as Thancred groaned around the cock in his mouth, spurred on by Urianger’s pace. Drool pooled haphazardly around his lips, and Ven’s groans were unrestrained.

“B-by the Twelve, fuck, oh gods. Y-you’re so good, Thancred.”

“Thou art–hells, _fuck,_ you’re divine, both of you–”

An erratic rhythm was kept up, Thancred breathing heavy through his nose whilst Urianger’s hand rested on his cock, Thancred jolting forwards into the touch, noises eager yet muffled, his technique perfect, every groan sent sparks up Ven’s spine, heat coiled in his gut, his cock twitched and his hips canted as he could hold himself no longer, the Hyur eagerly took him in for all he could offer, swallowed once–twice–thrice, before Ven extracted himself from his mouth, oversensitive, dizzy, pupils blown and sight thoroughly blurred as he peered through the fugue at Urianger, face contorted in ecstasy, his thrusts were stuttered, the man was completely lost the pleasure of being cock-deep within Thancred–

“Gods, Thancred, may—may I?”

_“Fuck, yes, Urianger–please, I’ve–I’ve wanted this for–ohhhhhgodsyes.”_

T’was almost that Thancred’s affirmation was the proverbial trigger as Urianger felt himself come completely undone, a few cursory thrusts once that familiar bliss washed over him, all-encompassing, Thancred’s release followed with his cries muffled by bedding, as the Elezen all-but collapsed in a (gentle, somehow elegant, and seemingly weightless) heap atop him, pulling out with an assuredly satisfied sigh.

What they’d not bargained for was a damp washcloth being unceremoniously hurled their way by an utterly boneless, still-nude Veneficus, who although still had a faint flush high upon his cheeks, was markedly aware enough to land that towel square upon Urianger’s head; with that said, anyone looking at him would be met with a stupefied grin when he sat himself back down on the bed.

“Thancred, are you doing alright?”

Face still firmly planted into the covers, he received a shaky thumbs-up, and Urianger, in the doting manner he always went about things, wiped Thancred down. 

“I think,” came a muffled voice, “I’m going to be feeling this tomorrow, you two.”

“I mean.”

“… ‘tis like that thou art correct.”

Aye, the duvet was beyond saving, and they would surely have some form of walk of shame in the morning, dodging past the prying eyes (and ears) of the other Scions, but the three were content to lay together with a large-but-light blanket woven of Furble yarn ‘til that moment beckoned, duvet laying ignored on the floor, clothes folded in some corner somewhere.

“I’ll confess, this isn’t how I envisaged our first eight suns back from another Shard.”

A resounding noise of agreement from Urianger and Thancred both.

“But… gods, you’re both so fuckin’ important to me.”

Another noise of affirmation.

“And Urianger, I had no idea you could swear.”

“Hah! He can swear like a sailor when he wishes, isn’t that right, Urianger?”

_“–Alas, I was already caught in deepest, rapturous slumber.”_

It was only fair that their arms remained entwined around Thancred, and _despite_ Urianger’s jesting, they spoke, and they spoke, and then they spoke some more in those quieted and contented tones, until eventually, but a few scant bells before dawn, they succumbed to the aforementioned slumber.

\--------------

Once morning came–or rather, a bell before midday came, Ven awoke with the slowest of starts, a hand rubbed at his eyes whilst he yawned a crackly yawn, and though the bed was a bit of a squeeze, it not being made for two Elezen and a Hyur (which he was pretty sure was a book he’d read once), his sleep was uneventful, the only tells of movement being the tangle of limbs.

Now, Ven was struck by a series of thoughts. 

Firstly, wow, that sure did happen.

Secondly, oh hells, he was never going to hear the end of this from Y’shtola, there was no way she didn’t know.

And thirdly, should he leave them alone to bask in their dreams a short while longer?

Decidedly, no. Decidedly, the very notion of leaving the bed was truly a detestable thing, and that moment struck Ven with an arrow crafted of purest certainty, a feeling he was thoroughly unaccustomed to.

Whichever calamity the Source had coming could wait a couple more bells.


End file.
